


Warming Up

by kscribbles



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 17:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscribbles/pseuds/kscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew him so well, his Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is almost completely plotless guys. A vehicle for smut. Though this started out as crack, it resisted my efforts to stay so. So I was trying for fluffy smut, which I shall call smuff. Many thanks to my lovely beta, manticoran. Written in 2007.

  
“Doctor, it’s cold.”

“I know,” he said, not coming up from beneath the grating.

“It’s colder than it was a while ago when I last mentioned the cold.”

“I know.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do? It’s freezing.”

“I know, I know, Rose! I’m working on it.” He was dismissing her, but she wasn’t budging.

“Doctor,” she said more gently, “It’s gone dark in most of the TARDIS too. Is she all right?”

This finally drew him out. Her concern wasn’t just for her own comfort, but for the welfare of the TARDIS. He spied her in heavy cotton pyjamas, a long jumper thrown over that, and a blanket about her shoulders, and his hearts went out to her.

He sat up and wiped dust from his trousers. “She’ll be okay. Her heating system was damaged after our last rough adventure. She’s nearly fixed now, but will need time to heal on her own. It’s why the power is low, she’s using most of it to mend herself. Should be all right in… a day or two. Ish?

“A day or two! And we just freeze to death in the vortex till then?”

He walked over to her and affectionately pulled the blanket snug around her, holding the edges like he might the lapel of a coat.

“Could be less. Hard to say. It won’t get much worse. She wouldn’t do that to you.”

He smiled serenely at her, and Rose couldn’t help but be comforted. Still, a shiver went through her.

He noticed it and searched his mind for a way to ease her discomfort. He flipped through his mental file of images from human popular culture and settled on an idea.

“Tell you what. I’ll finish up here, then make us some hot chocolate. You grab some more blankets and head to the library and get a fire going. We’ll hunker down there for the night. Sound all right?”

“Cuddling in the library all night?” she asked, less than innocent images springing unbidden to mind.

“Yup. Best way to keep warm. Meet you in say, 15 minutes or so?”

 

>>

 

She shifted a bit on the floor in front of the library’s couch, trying to get comfortable–the Doctor was turned awkwardly away from her.

“Come here, would you?” She said, wanting to see his face, wriggling to get closer to his warmth. “I don’t bite.”

“No, of course not. Just I’m quite comfortable over here.” His voice was shaky and low, and that made Rose curious.

Her hands were roaming over his half-blanketed form, looking for the best purchase to haul him closer.

“You’d be more comfortable if you were warmer and I–” she gasped as her hand brushed something unmistakable.

Rose was sure her senses were deceiving her, because unless she was very much mistaken, the Doctor was, apparently, quite aroused. He hissed in a quick breath, tried to jump away, but didn’t get far, tangled as they were in blankets.

“Doctor?” she asked, trying to keep the shock from her voice. They’d cuddled plenty of times. He was, after all, very tactile in this incarnation. Loved hugs and touches of all kinds. But until now, it had always been fairly innocent, stopping just short of anything romantic or sexual. They were just mates. Or at least, that's what she always told herself every time he drove her to frustration.

“Sorry, look, it’s not what you think. It’s a natural reaction, I’m–I was increasing my body temperature to keep you warm...increased blood flow, has uh…side effects. I’ll just–”

She stilled him from moving again as she replaced her hand. Something about the atmosphere of the room, the warmth and dark of the fire and his closeness, and mostly, his flustered response, made her feel bold.

“Rose!”

“Hmm?” she murmured, softly, stroking him lightly through his trousers. He was no longer squirming to get away; instead he turned into her slightly, so they were sitting side by side. Rose felt triumphant as he let out a small groan and closed his eyes in rapt pleasure.

“Rose…Rose, what are you doing?”

She didn’t answer, instead shifted the blankets off of him so she’d have better access. She kept waiting for him to stop her, to grab her wrist and demand she cease. To become outraged, or to run away from her in an embarrassed huff. But he didn’t do any of that. He silently let her continue, even as she undid his trousers and reached inside to grab hold of his warm flesh.

He opened his eyes then and caught her gaze. Rose was always amazed at how much information a look from him could convey, and this instance was no exception. His surprise was evident on his face and the small quirk to his mouth said he was just a bit amused at her boldness. But his serious eyes–dark, almost all pupil–were filled with what Rose instantly recognized as desire.

She held eye contact as she began to move her hand along his length, sliding her tongue between her teeth in determination and silently daring him to look away.

As her pace picked up, their adult version of a staring contest wore on. He swallowed deeply. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. She licked her lips and tightened her grip.

Finally he broke her gaze as he swore in a language she didn’t know and looked to the ceiling. He leant back on his hands and apparently gave himself fully over to her, pushing his hips into her grasp.

Rose reveled in the rush of power that moved through her as the Doctor’s breath began to come in small quick pants. Seeing him so prone, vulnerable, literally in her hands…she began to ache with her own desire, warmth building in the pit of her stomach and spreading ever lower, but pushed it aside in her determination to see him come undone.

She was rewarded in moments. He let out a strangled cry, shifted again, grabbed for her hand, sliding his fist around her smaller one, and pulled down roughly twice more. Rose watched his neck stretch as he threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed her hand aside and turned away from her, went totally rigid then hissed her name through clenched teeth as he came in a surge.

He remained still and quiet as his breathing returned to normal. The only sound beyond their breathing was the crackling of the fire, and eventually a zip closing again. She edged away from him a little more, unnerved by his lack of further response. She expected a witty comment of some sort. A compliment? A thank you? For him to beat a hasty retreat? She’d hurtled so brazenly into this foray on an impulse, but she’d hoped it would alleviate some of the tension between them, not make the tension worse.

She thought it might fall to her to break the silence, and was considering her options: make a joke, say something filthy, offer to fetch him a towel, snog him breathless–when he finally spoke.

“Went about that a bit backwards, didn’t we.”

“What?” She spluttered in confusion.

“I’m an expert at many things, you know,” he said, still not looking at her. “But it’s slightly possible I may not be an expert in human sexual relations. _Conventionally_ , isn’t there at least some snogging before there are orgasms?”

Rose breathed a mental sigh of relief, and chuckled out loud. “Since when are you interested in conventional, Doctor?”

“Says the woman who just manhandled me while I was gentlemanly seeing to her warmth.” Then, turning around and pointing a finger at her, “We need to talk to you about impulse control.”

A second later he reached out a hand to the back of her head, pulled her towards him, and sealed his mouth to hers.

 

>>

 

_You’re a fine one to talk_ , said voices in his head as he sunk his tongue into Rose’s warm mouth. _Very bad idea_ , they reminded him as she moaned into his.

_Right, voices, where were you a couple minutes ago? Go back there, I’m busy._ With his resolve firmly in place, while still thoroughly ravaging Rose’s mouth, he lowered her to the floor. In his haste he was less than gentle and her head thunked a bit as it made contact with the rug.

“Oof,” she breathed out, finally breaking their kiss.

Alarm zipped through him and in a panic he reached for the back of her head. She batted his hand away and smiled up at him. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure because I could just check if–”

“Doctor,” she said, and it was a clear warning to him to stop babbling.

“Right,” he fitted his body more closely to hers and lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “I’ll just continue then, shall I?”

He felt the shiver that went through her at his words and he hoped it wasn’t due to the cold. She didn’t answer as he sucked the flesh where her neck and jaw met below her ear, but he took her slight whimper as an affirmative reply.

Finding skin beneath the layers she wore, he slid a palm over her warm stomach, enjoying her uncontrollable arch towards his touch. He thought briefly of generations of humans who turned to sex for warmth in the countless winters before artificial heating and then shook the thought away. He’d wanted this nearly since he’d met Rose. This cold was catalyst that set them off, perhaps, but not the reason it was happening. The potential had always been brewing. He’d have to remember to thank the TARDIS later.

His lips found her mouth again and his hand slid upwards to cup a breast, thumb teasing an already hard nipple. He swallowed the moan that rumbled through her, then seconds later pulled his mouth from her hers and gave a long low moan of his own as her wicked hips ground up against him

“Doctor,” she was more than a little breathless, panting the words out. “Still trying to keep me warm?”

“What? Um. No, that’s all you.”

“Good,” she said, slipping her hands between their bodies. She undid his trousers and caressed his backside quickly as she shoved them down only as far as necessary.

He looked down between them, eyes widened at her boldness again, but at this point he shouldn’t have been at all surprised. He wasn’t in any particular mood to take this slowly either.

His eyes slid up to catch hers, confirming her desire to complete this, _right now_. The fierceness of the need he saw reflected there nearly took his breath away, but he didn’t ponder it long. Seemingly of its own volition, his hand started tugging on her pyjama bottoms, desperate to have them out of the way. He grunted in frustration at the task that was nearly impossible to accomplish while still pressed quite intimately against her. He was loathe to break the contact, but the promise of skin on skin convinced him.

He rolled off of her and took two deep shaky breaths as she reached down and whipped off her bottoms and knickers in a movement so fast it must have broken a record somewhere. In an instant he was back over her, pulling a forgotten blanket with him. They were both still mostly clothed, but he wouldn’t have Rose’s pleasure marred by frozen legs.

It occurred to him that he really shouldn’t be this impatient. He’d had release, not so many minutes ago, thanks to Rose’s wicked hands. But that memory was already distant and dreamlike now, and the rush of pleasure he’d felt when she’d touched him then was nothing compared to having her whole lithe body beneath his, moving desperately to join them. She had sparked a raging fire in his blood. And it wasn’t quenched as he swiftly entered her, but grew hotter. Rose was blazing inside. The feel of her surrounding him–being buried within her, having her legs locked around him–it was sizzling away conscious thought.

He was awash in sensation, nearly lost to the exquisite friction, but tiny fragments of information filtered through the red haze of pleasure. Rose was a breather, not a moaner or screamer. Her nails were sharp. Her hair smelled of melon. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and her breath hitched on almost every inhale now, and he knew that meant she was close.

She tensed beneath him and let out his name on a breath.

That exquisite sound and the fine tremors he felt coursing through her were his undoing. A few more furious thrusts into her heat and he was done for, tension coiling to a point just this side of pain before finally releasing. He loosed a long deep groan into the warm skin of her neck and collapsed, spineless and spent, over her.

After a few moments he rolled to his side and propped himself on an elbow to study her face. Her face was the picture of bliss, eyes still closed, like she was afraid that opening them would break the peaceful stillness that seemed to have settled between them.

Finally noticing the chill in the room again, he used his free hand to tuck the blankets around her, covering her up to her neck to ward off the cold.

She murmured contentment and snuggled closer, opening her eyes at last. They shined brightly in the low light. She was positively glowing, and he found satisfaction really suited her.

She looked like she was about to say something and then bit her lip, letting out only a half giggle.

“What,” he asked smiling down at her.

“That was different.”

He panicked for a second, wondering if he’d done anything…odd. No, it was pretty much normal, if fabulous, intense, TARDIS-rockin’, human-style sex. Satisfied she wasn’t referring to anything ‘alien,’ he cheekily supplied the next line of a remembered exchange.

“Good different or bad different?”

She smiled enigmatically at that. Wriggling a hand out from between them she reached up to pet his face. It was his turn to make small contented noises as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

She drew him down for a brief kiss before finally answering. “Different for you. For _us_.”

“You started it.”

“Somebody had to.”

He smiled and looked away, acknowledging agreement but not admitting it out loud. She knew him so well, his Rose.

He studied the glow of the firelight on her blonde tresses splayed out on the dark library floor, wondering if he should answer. He tossed about ideas in his head, calculating what topic of conversation would be statistically least likely to destroy the intimate mood they were sharing but would simultaneously divert her attention from analyzing his relationship skills or lack thereof.

He was saved by Rose’s soft snore. Looking fondly back at her, he saw her eyes once again closed in contentment, her whole countenance softened by sleep. He sighed deeply and snuggled down closer to her, allowing himself to relax and enjoy the pleasure of her soft warmth.

 

>>

 

Rose was on fire. It was the dominating thought as bits of the world around her slid into her mind. She was tangled in too many clothes and blankets and something else. In her sleep addled brain, all she could think of was getting out of this inferno and cooling off.

She hastily shoved layers of material out of the way and crawled out of the bundle she’d been lying in, still more than half asleep. Barely thinking she hastily stripped off her clothing, flinging it this way and that till she was bare and could breathe.

Despite the now comfortable temperature in the room, she shivered as the air hit her all at once. The air was effective as a bucket of cold water. She was suddenly very, very awake. Naked and awake and staring at the lump beginning to move in the pile of blankets she’d just vacated.

The memories of what she’d been doing with said lump a few hours ago fled into her in a dizzying rush, as a mop of thoroughly ruffled brown hair emerged from the pile. His eyes took in her form; saw her blush toe to tip. But proudly she refused to give in to the urge to cover herself under the scrutiny of his gaze. She met his eyes, and tried unsuccessfully for several moments to get her mouth working.

Finally, she somehow miraculously managed to say calmly, “The heat’s working again.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “And you thought,” shrugging off the blankets, he stood, maddeningly completely clothed (if ridiculously disheveled), before her, “nudity was the best way to announce this?”

When she heard the hint of amusement in his tone, she relaxed somewhat. Last night she hadn’t given much thought to what the morning after would hold, but she never figured she’d be standing naked and completely disarmed while he held all the cards. And clothes. But if he wasn’t going to be awkward about it, she could handle this bit of embarrassment. They’d shagged, after all. Quite enthusiastically. And it had been fantastic, even if she hadn’t lost all her clothes at the time.

Finally daring to cover herself, she crossed her arms above her breasts. She raised her chin and tried to sound defiant and confident.

“I…yeah. Best way. Yup because…” she trailed off glancing around the room trying to find something to distract him from looking at her. It was doing wonderful and terrible things to her insides. Her blush deepened as she chanced a glance back at him and saw his eyes lingering over her curves.

“Well. Can’t say it’s a bad way to wake up,” he said finally, “just not what I expected first thing in the morning.”

He lifted a hand to her cheek, and the tenderness of the gesture along with the emotion in his dark eyes surprised her, at odds with his teasing tone.

“Rose Tyler.” He laughed outright then and grabbed one of her hands to draw her into the circle of his arms. “Don’t ever stop surprising me.”

 

FIN

 

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
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